we're not kids anymore

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧

The rain was pouring even thicker, falling in thick, icy sheets as Gabe followed Mike and Will outside. Gabe could barely see through it, and he knew Will going out there would be a recipe for disaster, especially if he went out alone, and with no raincoat or any protection. Anyone who ventured a foot out into the open would be instantly drenched.

Mike seemed to be thinking the same thing. "Will, come on," he called. "You can't leave. It's raining." He moved toward the boy, trying to comfort him. "Listen, I said I was sorry. All right? It's a cool campaign. It's really cool. We're just not in the mood right now."

Gabe hovered at the door, unsure of what he could say. He wanted to help Will, but he felt that saying anything might make Will want to leave even more. So instead, he watched as Will whirled around, looking up at Mike. The height difference between them was astounding.

"Yeah, Mike. That's the problem," Will spat. His face was screwed up, and there were unshed tears dotting his eyes. "You guys are never in the mood anymore. You're ruining our party."

"That's not true!" Mike spluttered.

"Really? Where's Dustin right now?" Mike didn't respond. A twinge of guilt went through Gabe. He had no idea where the boy was, either. He didn't even know if he'd managed to contact Suzie.

"See?" Will said. "You don't know and you don't even care. And obviously he doesn't either and I don't blame him! You're destroying everything, and for what? So you can swap spit with some stupid girl?"

"El's not stupid!" bleated Mike. Then, with a slight snarl, "It's not my fault you don't like girls."

Even from here, Gabe could see Will's face turn a brilliant red, and more tears prickle his eyes. He turned, and for the first time, perhaps, saw Gabe standing at the doorway, afraid to speak, to move, and turned, if possible, even redder. Mike seemed to notice this, because his tone softened.

"I'm not trying to be a jerk. Okay? But we're not kids anymore. I mean, what did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were gonna just sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?"

"Yeah." Will sniffed. "I guess I did. I really did." And then, without another word, Will got onto his bike, and rode into the rain. Mike attempted to call after him, but he didn't dare move out from under the cover his porch offered him. But seeing Will's small figure be immediately swallowed up by the thick rain finally broke Gabe out of his trance, and he ran forward, hopping onto his own bike. He tried not to look at Mike but couldn't resist it when the boy finally spoke.

"Where are you going?"

Then Gabe snapped again. His hands curled into fists around the handlebars and his nostrils flared. "I'm going after Will. You know, all he wanted to do was play D&D with the original party. Al and I have played it with him before, but he was really looking forward to playing it with you and Lucas, like the old times. But you're obsessed with your girlfriend, and you don't give a shit about him anymore! I know we're older now, but that doesn't mean we have to give up the things we love. And I know I joined the party late, but even I know that all he wanted was for things to go back to normal. Before he was taken by the Demogorgon, and had his childhood ripped away from him. He was stuck in there for a week, Mike! Never safe, always hiding, afraid that even a breath would alert that son of a bitch to his presence. He didn't get the chance to be innocent, didn't get the chance to be a kid, because all of that disappeared the day he woke up in the Upside Down. So, you know, Mike, the least you could've done was pretend to enjoy yourself. But you had to make things all about El again. Like you always do.

"So I'm going after him. Because I care about him, and if you gave two shits about him like you say you do then you should be, too. Or you can stay in your warm house and try to come up with excuses for your crappy behavior. Either way, I don't care."

And without waiting to hear Mike's sputters, Gabe pedalled into the rain, following the faint silhouette of Will's in the distance. He immediately began to shiver, the thick sheets of rain instantly drenching him, pressing his clothes to his skin, but he didn't stop pedalling. His anger was a pulse that pulled him forward, that kept him moving, even though he knew he'd probably be sick come morning. And it was so that he found himself at Will's house later, and was present for the moment nobody wanted to happen.

Ten minutes ago, Max had prepared them to go out to the pool. Pulling open the sliding closet door, Max handed three different colored raincoats to her friends. El got red, Max got yellow, and Alina got blue, and they all pulled their hoods up as they walked through the house, Max explaining things to the others. "I have a spare bike you can use," she told Alina. "And El, you can ride on the back of mine. Is that okay?"

Upon the nods of her friends, Max set her jaw. She seemed worried now, a lot more worried than she had been before coming in here. Although Alina doubted Max really believed Billy had done... whatever it was he'd done to the girl, she knew that the sight of the bloodstained whistle had scared her. But unlike Alina, whose fear made her weaker, made her want to just stop, for perhaps an eternity, fear made Max Mayfield move. She hurried Alina and El, now clad in raincoats, to her garage, where the two bikes lay.

The garage was cluttered with rakes, soccer balls, garbage cans, and a number of other mundane objects with no other place to lie. It was an obstacle course for Max to wheel the two bikes out, even with El's help, and by that time the rain was rattling the windows. It was as thick as the water coming out of a showerhead, and Alina felt infinitely grateful that Max happened to have raincoats on hand.

El, who was clutching the lifeguard fanny pack, climbed onto Max's bike behind the girl, and Alina hopped onto her own, which was slightly rusted from lack of use. Then they were off, the three of them, biking into the rain, barely able to see where they were going. Even with their raincoats, the trio were still soaked to the bone, and Alina, uncomfortably, felt water spilling into her socks. She squinted through the haze, trying to keep an eye on the bike in front of her, and pedalled hard, thrilling in the simplicity of it.

It took longer than usual to arrive at the pool, where previous swimmers were running through the rain, holding towels over their heads, still in their bathing suits. They'd obviously been unprepared for the coming storm, and had probably only left the water after the first lightning strike had hit. Their shrieks rang through the air, adding another layer of dismal to the atmosphere outside.

Alina dismounted her bike and followed Max and El to the counter, shivering slightly. Her wet hair clung to her skin, and Max and El were similarly drenched. At the counter, a boy and a girl lazily sat, looking as if they'd quite like to be anywhere except for here. The girl was sipping a Coca Cola through a straw and reading a magazine, and the boy—the manager, as proclaimed by his uniform—was immersed into a comic book. Neither of them looked up when Max spoke.

"Excuse me?"

"No one in the water until thirty minutes after the last strike," he droned. "And don't try and argue with me. You wanna get electrocuted, go climb a tree."

"Yeah, we don't care," said Max. "We're not here to swim. Or get electrocuted."

El held up the fanny pack taken from the bathroom. "We found this."

The manager looked up, mildly interested, and the girl just sipped her Coke. Alina leaned against the counter.

"Does that belong to anybody here?" Max asked.

"Oh yeah." The manager's voice was still monotone. "That's Heather's. I'll get it back to her."

"We could give it back to her," El suggested quickly.

"You could," said the manager, "'Cept, she's not here. Bailed on me today."

Alina, Max, and El all exchanged a look layered with meaning. Alina's heart started to pound again. The manager, on the other hand, just looked confused. "What is this? You girls want a reward or somethin'?"

"No," said Max. "We're just... good Samaritans."

"And," said Alina, thinking quickly, "Heather's a family friend of mine. You know, I could go check on her... ask her why she bailed on you... you know."

The girl made a face, and Max made one back. They didn't want to seem to help. But while El and Max turned away from the counter in defeat, Alina remained behind, tapping her fingers. "So, uh," she began, trying to remain smooth, "was there anyone else who bailed today? Like, was it just Heather?"

Nice, job, Alina. That isn't weird at all.

She felt a long way from the girl who lied with ease to Mr. Clarke, who pinched her thigh to make her tears fall. But, bizarrely, the manager didn't seem fazed. "Oh, yeah," he said, his eyes flicking back down to his comic, "Billy also ditched today. He said he was sick yesterday, though, so I assume that's all that was. 'Kay?"

He looked like he wanted nothing more than for her to leave, and so Alina obliged. "Thanks for all of your help," she said, because the manager had helped her more than he realized. Now she knew who the fanny pack belonged to, which meant she might know who the screaming figure was. And it had also been confirmed that wherever she was, Billy was likely with her.

Alina met up with Max and El at the bulletin board, where, amongst the lightning warning, pool closure notifications, and an advertisement for the Fourth of July parade (well, at least Gabe had something to look forward to on his birthday) was a collection of photos of all of the lifeguards at the pool. This included Heather, who was smiling brightly as if working at the pool was the best job in the world.

Max noticed Alina come up behind her, then looked back to the picture. "Heather," she said. "Do you think you two can find her?"

"If it's like finding Billy, then yes, we can," said Alina. El nodded, before checking behind her to make sure the manager didn't notice. Then she tore the picture off the bulletin board, and ushered her friends away.

Alina was finding out that this whole 'finding people' thing was more complicated than she thought. But instead of being afraid to make yet another plunge into the void, where she'd only ever had negative experiences, she clenched her fists, a surge of bravery rushing through her. She was going to find out what was going on. And she was going to put a stop to this madness. No matter what.

They headed to the locker room, which was predictably empty during this storm. To prepare for this new plunge, Alina duct-taped two pairs of goggles for herself and El (which reminded her of the time they'd done the same for the girl in the gym at Hawkins Middle) and Max turned on all of the showers to provide adequate background noise. With the hiss of water falling on the floor, Alina sat cross-legged beside El, who placed the picture of Heather between them. Max sat on the benches, ready if either of them needed help.

Here we go again, Alina thought. And then she put her goggles on.

. ✧ ・゜. +・o ✧